


There is no darkness but ignorance.

by ConvenientAlias



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [8]
Category: SHAKESPEARE William - Works, Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: F/F, Identity Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Under persuasion, Viola tells Olivia her secret.





	There is no darkness but ignorance.

“Lady, you do not understand.”

“I understand that you are cruel,” Olivia says. “That you come here again and again, claiming to speak only for your master when I can see in your eyes that you… and then refusing to confess your love! All this only to taunt me.”

“Lady, I…”

“Though do not quit your cruelty,” Olivia says quickly, “for if this is the only way I may see you, I would not have you leave me forever. But if only you would fulfill the potential of one of your vows—do not say they are all in your master’s name, I cannot believe that.”

“Lady, I cannot. There is…”

Viola trails off. Olivia’s presence is overwhelming; the very scent of her perfume drives Viola insane. When Olivia beckons her in every day and asks her to give “pretty speeches”, it is only to easy to get carried away in the moment, secure in the knowledge that she can always say all her words are Orsino’s, she can always run away from this. But Olivia is the one who suffers for her games, every time.

(Although it is not as if she does not suffer too.)

“I cannot…”

“Love me? Can you not?”

“I cannot be for you what you want. I could never be your husband, or even… well, there are things about me, lady, that if you knew…”

“There is nothing you could say would make me love you less; I know you, Cesario.” Olivia clasps Viola’s hands, looks at her with wide, wet eyes. “Let me give proof of my love, if you doubt it.”

Viola knows it isn’t sensible. These are only games she plays with Olivia, after all—she is only the duke’s mouthpiece, none of this is real, and it isn’t worth losing everything—but she looks at Olivia, and Olivia is sincere and pained, and Viola thinks she deserves to know the truth. Even if, once she knows it, she will never love Viola again.

“Then I will tell you,” she says, “that I am not that Cesario that you think I am—”

“You are not the one who has come into my garden to give me pretty speeches, who always speaks so hotly and gazes at my face and flushes when I speak in turn?”

“Well, I am, but Cesario I am not, for Cesario is not and never has been. It is a name I took on when I came to Illyria, to protect myself. My former name was Viola. …I am a woman.”

Olivia considers this, with a furrowed brow.

Viola waits for her reaction. When she still does not say anything, Viola says, “I have obeyed the duke in bringing you his messages. He thinks I am a boy, which is better. You understand, don’t you? It would have been too dangerous for a noblewoman alone.” Still silence. “I pray you will not betray me to him.”

“So he does not know either?”

“No, which is for the best.”

Olivia asks, “Are you in love with him?”

“No.”

“Ah. I thought you might be, for a moment. Because you are a woman. Though, I also thought you might be as a man. You made that sort of man.” Olivia leans forward. “You know what I mean, of course… the kind of man who loves men.”

“Some seem to think I am that.”

“But you are not. But… might you be the kind of woman who loves women?”

Viola wets her lips. She lets out a little laugh. “Lady, are you back to your tricks already?”

“My love confessions are not tricks,” Olivia says haughtily. “Did I not tell you nothing you could say would alter my love? Then it is still not altered; I did not lie.”

“What if I had confessed to murder?”

“Then I would love a murderer.”

“What if I were secretly married?”

“Then I would make you an adulterer—or become a murderer myself. Love has unhinged me, and there is nothing to be done about it. But for me, woman or man makes little difference—I love Cesario, and I will love Viola.”

Viola sighs. Her exasperation is akin to euphoria. “Then, milady, if nothing on this earth can sway you, I suppose I must accept that love.”

She has barely finished speaking when Olivia is upon her, eager hands and lips too long denied. And the frenzy devours her as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt of: "something about Olivia/viola from twelfth night (like maybe viola telling Olivia her identity and Olivia liking her even more bc of it)". Sooo... my first Olivia/Viola fic. I quite do ship them, though idk if I do them justice here. Hopefully so? Oh well.


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